Demons don't cry
by Howbrighthesky
Summary: an old enemy of Crowley's shows up and takes an interest in his angel. Aziraphale is kidnapped and it's a race to get to him before he is seriously hurt.. help comes from an unexpected place, and Crowley discovers he has the capacity for tears after all- almost non con, slash, gay paring (please take the time to review if you can, this is such a niche ship and feedback helps a lot)
1. Like snapping a glow stick

_an old enemy of Crowley's shows up and takes an interest in his angel, Aziraphale is kidnapped and it's a race to get to him before he is seriously hurt, help comes from an unexpected place, and Crowley discovers he has the capacity for tears after all- almost non con, slash, gay paring_

Crowley and Arizaphale walked arm in arm, a bag of books in Crowley's free hand and an even larger one in arizaphale's, the silly angel insisted on buying that one vintage bible which seemed so heavy Crowley had insisted on carrying a few of the larger books himself.

Arizaphale was such a loving creature, mused Crowley. If the lazy afternoon wing grooming and constant affectionate cuddling was anything to go by. Crowley couldn't wait to get back to his flat, to have the angel curl up on his bony lap and snuggle into his chest, making himself comfortable. Crowley had long since stopped pretending he was unaffected by this, and liked to wrap his arms around the angel protectively, tucking his blonde curly head under his sharp chin.

They had spent the day at a second hand bookshop which had recently got a new order of antiques in, Aziraphale pouring over all of them, darting about. Crowley sat in the second chair in the reading nook, sipping coffee amusedly and flipping through an old botany book.

That had been followed by a splendid evening at a new hipster restaurant that had just begun hosting speakeasies.

They had thoroughly enjoyed the night, the original songs performed by a budding young musician inventive, and the flash fiction readings exquisite.

Crowley had to fight back an amused grin at zira's face at one of the more raucous readings. The angel, no matter how times they kissed in private, still blushed at anything past holding hands in public. Even the reading made him blush, and Crowley got high off it.

Maybe it was the demon in him, loving to see such a pure being tarnished. Though Crowley suspected it had something to do with how lovely the dusting of pink on the angels fair skin looked. So luscious, reminding him of the beauty of Eden, Aziraphale was beautiful, and he looked even more so when flustered.

The angel was smiling contentedly now, swinging his shopping bag in earnest and sniffing the rain damp air happily; short turned up little nose pointing up into the air and eyes closing in bliss. Crowley resisted the urge to swing the angel up into his arms and kiss him silly, holding him as close as possible without squeezing too tight and hurting him.

Crowley was all sharp edges and long limbs, his corporation alone was exceedingly weak compared to most demons, but his true self mitigated that. He was a fairly powerful demon, he wouldn't have been entrusted with the antichrist if he was any less powerful than he was, suffice to say one short angel was not hard to lift.

They weren't too far from the Bentley, walking down a small side street hand in hand, when Crowley sensed another demonic presence, it was strong. He only realised he had stopped walking when Aziraphale raised his eyebrows in concern looking around in puzzlement "what is it dea-"

"Demons" replied Crowley, before the angel even finished speaking.

Without warning there was the rustle of fabric sweeping through the air and a wet splash from directly behind them. Arizaphale's hand was wrenched from his, the angel eliciting a surprised yelp, books scattering across the alley. Crowley spun, growling under his breath, two knives slid from their holsters into his hands as he turned to confront their attacker.

It was a handsome demon, and a face he knew all too well. He was wearing thick red leather boots and shiny leather pants, along with a black leather coat that hung off his frame quite nicely (what was it about demons and leather?) rippling muscles showing through the thin hole ridden black t shirt. His hair was spiked up tastefully into an erratic but artful mess, and he still sported the scar on his left eyebrow from the fight they'd had on earth many years ago. Crowley had known him while he was living in hell, and they hated each other, this being delighted in torture, something Crowley had never been interested even on his worst days, his name was Orlo.

Crowley didn't notice the clothing, or the boots, he was too busy seething at the crushing grip Orlo had on _his_ angel. Orlo's arms circled the short angel lazily, but with enough force that he saw zira was obviously in pain, wincing and trying to stay silent, gingerly pushing at the restraining limbs in a way which told Crowley the process was painful.

White hot rage filled the demon " let him go!" Shouted Crowley. Turning his head from left to right as he heard small splashes from both ends of the street, two dark figures approaching.

"Yes let me-!" Aziraphale hissed, mouth falling open as the arms tightened, a small gasp escaping, there was an audible crack as one of Aziraphale's ribs gave way. There was a wobbly cry, and the angel went limp for a few moments, head bobbing as he fought to remain conscious through the pain.

" I will do nothing of the sort- _Crowley"_, Orlo spat the name like a curse, Crowley scowled as the two shadowy figures came into the light, both young and spiteful looking, like they'd had too many tangfastics and it had left a sour taste in their mouths. Crowley frantically whipped his head from side to side to keep an eye on them. They remained at a distance and came no further.

They were outnumbered, with no real weapons whatsoever. Sure the knives were great for humans, incase any unwitting human tried to mug the pair, but they would do little against demons.

Nevertheless Crowley stood his ground.

The demon hissed in anger when Orlo pushed his angel up against a fire escape with one arm braced against his chest, zira's eyes fluttered, and he moaned, brogue clad feet twitching a foot off the ground, finally eyes fluttering open and alighting their panicked blue gaze on Crowley.

"He's too pretty for an ugly wart like you Crowley" Orlo sniffed "even if he is an angel" without warning Orlos second arm moved up, hand gripping Arizaphale's face from under the chin, smushing his lips together. The angel seemed to be in too much pain to focus, eyes fluttering once more.

Orlo tilted the angels small face from left to right, eyes twinkling, he ran a calloused thumb over Arizaphale's bottom lip. Crowley automatically took a step forward, but stopped immediately when the two young demons, a male and a female, matched his step with one of their own.

"I wouldn't try that if I were you" tutted the sadist, licking his lips and raking his eyes up and down the angels small frame.

" let him go Orlo" pleaded Crowley, trying to sound tough, with desperation creeping into his voice. Panicked yellow eyes flickering between the two younger demons and Orlo.

"He's just an angel" reasoned Crowley.

"surely you'd rather take me! I'm the one who got you demoted, it would be much more fun to torture me! "

Orlo caressed Aziraphale's face causing an automatic shiver to go through the angels frame, even while unconscious shrinking away from the touch,

"And what makes you think I want to torture this beautiful creature?" Smirked the sadist. Crowley was shocked into silence, baffled, surely Orlo didn't want...Orlo licked his lips, ignoring Crowley.

"He would make quite the lovely slave" Orlo continued "I've always wanted one, and I'm sure I could put his pretty mouth to better use than you ever have" Orlo smirked. Making eye contact with the angels lover.

Crowley saw white, hands shaking and body quivering like a leaf in the wind. Pent up anger and desperation fizzing out of him like a bottle of bubbly, he couldn't! Not his friend! Not his Aziraphale! The pair hadn't even done so much as touch one another, only cuddling and hand holding, some kissing. Aziraphale was a virgin, and too innocent for this, to be defiled by this...this freak!

Crowley's face hardened. "You will releassssssse him!" He hissed.

Crowley was unprepared for what happened next."Ok" said Orlo. He dropped the angel.

There was a sickening crack when Aziraphale's head hit the concrete, eyes flying open and breath coming in gasps. The angel raised one hand to his head, red liquid coating his small pale hand, he shuffled back against the wall, the other arm wrapped protectively around his middle.

"CROWLEY RUN!" Shouted the angel, trying to stand but swooning, falling back against the wall heavily. "He'll kill you!" He gasped, Aziraphale had just experienced first hand the demons strength, he had no doubt Crowley would be severely injured or worse if he interfered. The young male slipped past Crowley and yanked Zira up by the collar of his coat, clamping a hand over the angels mouth and stifling a cry of pain.

"I'M NOT LEAVING YOU ANGEL!" Bellowed Crowley, getting into his fighting stance as the female demon and Orlo approached him.

In a flash the female demon had him in a headlock, Crowley slashing madly at her with his knives, but doing little damage. She had dodged his punch like a shadow. Orlo sent him a winding punch to the stomach which had him slumping, the only thing holding him up being the other demon. A surge of strength returned to him a second later and he twisted like a snake out of the hold, somersaulting through the air and kicking Orlo in the face. A spurt of black blood shot out of the villains nose and he screamed in anger, clutching the bridge of his nose.

The female demon advanced once more. Orlo looked across at the angel, smirking and sucking in his bottom lip, biting, fangs pushed into the soft flesh, his eyes glinted. He looked back over to Crowley, face closing off.

"Kill him" said Orlo, the second demon advancing. Orlo produced some shackles and slapped a pair on Arizaphale's feet, lifting the angel onto his shoulder like he weighed nothing. The angel hissed in pain, then begun twisting frantically, trying to get a look at what was going on, surely Crowley could best those two lower demons. The angel was however uncertain about the demon carrying him, he had broken an angelic rib like snapping a glow stick, and his aura positively reeked of power.

My, my what had he got himself into. The angel fought the urge to vomit, his broken rib and concussion coupled with the vile feel of this demons aura had bile rising in his throat. Also he couldn't be sure, but had the demon caressed him? He felt violated, he was hardly awake for most of the conversation between this demon and his Crowley, but Crowley had sounded so distressed, which only normally happened on his behalf. Aziraphale felt oddly detached, maybe it was the blood loss, his head throbbed.

Crowley was twisting and turning evading punches so fast Aziraphale could barely see what was happening through blurry eyes, his head had begun to feel really heavy and black spots danced in his vision. His cheeks reddened as he realised The demon was holding him in place with a hand on his bottom, the flapping of coats and scuffling feet faded. 'what kind of a soldier was he if he couldn't even sense a demon in time!? What a shambles' thought Aziraphale, he gave one last half hearted wriggle, and he saw no more.


	2. There's a first time for everything

Aziraphale awoke to the sound of a door closing. Light filtering through his eyelids as he let himself adjust to wakefulness. His head had cleared somewhat but he still felt the slight throb from the night before, he couldn't seem to remember what had happened, oh dear, he thought to himself, he and Crowley must have drank way too much last night.

The angel tried miracaling away the hangover but let out a confused noise when he realised he couldn't.

He then tried swinging into an upright position on the bed but a sharp pang of panic stabbed through his stomach when he realised he couldn't, one arm catching something, a pinching feeling at his wrist.

It was only when he opened his eyes and saw this was not Crowley's apartment when he really started to freak out. Breath coming in short bursts, body quivering.

Zira looked down and saw his feet shackled, something with nasty markings like some sort of incantation on it circling his ankles. That must be what was stopping him from accessing his angelic power. He reached forward frantically, gasping as his left wrist pulled against a handcuff attached to the bed he was lying on, fiddling with the metal on his ankles with his right hand.

Aziraphale whimpered as a sharp pain in his chest shocked him into stillness, the throbbing in his head increasing and dark flashes of the night before torturing him. The angel remembered Crowley fighting someone, being held roughly and a terrible terrible pain as his rib snapped, he remembered hitting his head, Crowley's concerned tone, and his lover shouting angrily at the demon holding him- demon! Yes demon! He had been taken by demons!

Aziraphale looked around. It was a sparsely decorated apartment room with a small balcony and a writing desk. Nothing demonic inside, just a normal room, the sheets were ruffled, and he felt as if someone had not long left the other side of the bed. He was struggling to sense anything out of the ordinary, but then the ghost of a smell, something foul and bitter entered his nostrils. The the entirety of the night before flooded back.

Aziraphale gripped at his left wrist, hands scrabbling desperately, and blood welling as the cuff restraining him did not release but sank deep into his flesh. He keened as blood thick and wet dripped down his ivory skin, this shouldn't have happened, he was an angel, this must be something to do with the shackles...

Aziraphale stopped when he heard noises coming from the other side of the door, slowly releasing the tension and realising too late his captor had heard his pained noises.

The door swung open and in walked the demon from last night, hips swinging as he swaggered across the room, pulling the chair out from the desk and sitting on it the wrong way round, resting his chin on his folded arms.

"How's my beautiful angel?" Smirked the demon. Eyes dancing. His mouth quirked downwards then, glancing at the wound, eyebrows lowering In mock concern.

"Oh angel- that's Crowley's little nickname for you is it not? You needn't struggle so, I'm not going to hurt you" his words promised kindness, but the tone told Zira the truth, like an inaudible smirk, he was lying. Aziraphale had no doubt this being delighted in seeing him in pain. One look into the steady amber cat eyes and he shuddered.

"Where is Crowley?" Questioned Aziraphale. "And what have you done to him?!" He demanded.

"Hahaha" cackled the demon, throwing his head back, shoulders shaking. The demon wiped away a tear.

" wouldn't you like to know sweet cheeks" he said, voice cutting more than any blade could. Aziraphale couldn't help it, this made him angry, he was not some weak naive rooky angel, he disliked being talked to like he was a baby, or worse an object. He remembered the hand on his bottom, anxiety biting at him as he worried what this demon had planned for him. Aziraphale had never been one to listen though, the most reckless of all Gods angels and least likely to follow the rules. He couldn't help it, he retorted.

"I am not some simpleton demon, tell me where my friend is, or you will regret this" surprisingly nothing happened, the demon regarded him calmly.

"You're fooling no one angel, you and Crowley are more than friends" he smiled knowingly.

"And what business is that of yours?" Questioned the angel, a little too quickly.

It only took one second for the demons face to switch, not that Aziraphale knew right away what this meant, the atmosphere changed, the light in the room dimmed. The demons eyes lowering, darkening.

"No" said the demon with the tone of someone finding out a really crazy secret they didn't quite believe. Leaning black in the chair and looking for the first time a little shocked.

He started to laugh, head thrown back so much the top of his mouth was visible, he had two rows of razor looking sharp teeth. At the end he wiped thrumming jittery hands over his face, he looked positively sick with excitement.

"Don't tell me Crowley has been in love with an angel for 6000 years and never fucked it? I mean I never would have thought…"

Said the demon, almost to himself, eyes black with lust.

The demon licked his lips, and stood, throwing the chair to one side carelessly. Aziraphale froze with fear, heart stilled, he couldn't breathe, he was having a panic attack.

A second passed and lips spread open mouthed kisses across his collarbone and neck, the corner of his mouth, he choked as sharp needle teeth sank deeply into his shoulder. A hand was undoing his belt, and a thigh was wedged firmly between his legs. Without further ado Aziraphale passed out.

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Crowley stumbled across the london streets, his wilting wings dragging behind him bloody and torn, and his right leg occasionally giving way, wings jerking out to catch his fall. The demons breath came in ragged starts and his sunglasses were shattered, the framework still perched on the end of his nose. He was being followed, he had caught a glimpse of a stranger dressed in white a while back, he hoped the angel following him would show mercy. On top of all this being discorporated was the last thing he needed.

He fiddled with the keys to his bentley, cursing when they slipped through blood slick fingers and clattered to the floor. He scrabbled at them, finally managing to painfully retract his shattered wings with a groan and slump into the driver's seat.

He sighed as he locked the door, the streets seeming to be empty, no sign of the angel anywhere.

Crowley had the shock of his life when he adjusted his front mirror to find a flash of white showing."Where are we off then Hun?" Said the angel in the back seat. He immediately tried to exit the bentley, but felt angelic power overpowering his and locking all the doors.

"Miss please I've not done anything! I swear! I was just-"

The angel laughed, a melodic calm sound.

"Sweetheart I'm not here to smite you, I want to help" Crowley could only gape at the dark haired angel sat primly in the back seat.

"Did… he send you?"

Asked Crowley in disbelief.

"You could say that" said the angel in the back seat.

Crowley had just managed to stop hyperventilating.

"And what are your orders?"

The angel laughed.

"Assist the Demon Crowley in rescuing the angel Aziraphale"

Crowley's eyebrows raised into his hairline. Yep, because an angel helping a demon was so so normal! He put his jittery hands on the steering wheel and turned on the ignition.

"As if this is the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me" he muttered.

"And I was at Woodstock!"

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When they arrived at Crowley's flat he collapsed on the couch, surprised when the angel immediately perched on it behind him.

"Wings out Hun" said the angel.

Crowley leaned away from the angel repulsed.

"Look" said Crowley, eyeing the steady brown gaze "I don't know who you think you are but I don't let just any angel touch my wings!"

The angel smirked, actually smirked!

" is Aziraphale the only angel you ever let near them?" Grinned the angel, eyes shining with mirth.

If demons could blush Crowley would be blushing.

He began to say something, but no words came, he couldn't even begin to explain, and he realised he didn't really want to.

"Its none of your business miss, oh can I get a blessed name! I'm sick of calling you miss!"

The angel sniggered in a decidedly un angelic way and smiled. "I am vera" she said.

It was now Crowley's turn to smirk.

"What kind of an angel name is that!?" Grinned Crowley. "That's a human name, I call bullshit!"

The angels smile became tight.

"I will tell you my real name when I trust you" said Vera.

Crowley couldn't believe this.

"Trust me!" Said Crowley in disbelief. "You're the one who barged into my flat and demanded to touch my wings! -You, you pervert!" He added.

( Crowley was tempted to ask how much worse her angel name was but decided to leave it at calling her a pervert)

The angel didn't seem phased by the insult, simply cracking her knuckles and stretching her hands out infront of her.

"Oh don't be silly" tutted Vera.

"I can't heal them if they're put away can I?"

Wait she was going to heal him? This day was getting stranger and stranger, first Aziraphale was captured by his creepy nemesis Orlo, second of all he managed to walk away from a fight with not one but two lower demons, third of all he had let an angel that was decidedly not Aziraphale enter his flat, and fourthly the angel instead of smiting him was going to heal his wings! Could this day get any weirder?

Despite it all he didn't have the energy to fight anymore, his love was gone, and he was too injured to be of any use in a rescue.

Crowley reached into the plane and felt his bleeding broken wings twinge. Angels didn't lie, he grudgingly decided he had little choice but to trust her.

He let out a broken cry as his wings emerged from the ethereal plane hanging limply before Vera. Cool hands began to spread healing power through him. He was unused to this power however, Aziraphale was the only angel who had ever healed him, this power burned, he gritted his teeth through the pain, he would find Zira, and Orlo would wish he had never laid a finger on him.

x

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The car ride was long, They had tracked Orlo to a flat on the outskirts of town. Crowley wanted to tear free, let his wings burst open and fly off immediately but his newly healed wings could not yet support his weight. That left him in his car with this insufferable angel Vera.

She shared Aziraphale's annoying obsession with queen, and due to him being quite lacking in the power department he couldn't fight her when she played it on repeat using the cars radio.

If Crowley was honest with himself, which was a rare occurrence, it wasn't the music that was the problem, it was the memories linked to it. He remembered many happy times-usually involving Aziraphale sat next to him with a bag of books resting on his knees, and some debate over whether some tortured musician would end up in heaven or hell.

Crowley loved these debates, but every now and then he would hide a smile at the smug look on his angels face. Aziraphale's faith in mankind was not limitless, but was still huge. 6000 years and he hadn't changed a bit. He had so much faith in tortured druggie musicians he wouldn't believe they would end up in hell.

He remembered ice creams, sat in the plush seats listening to Aziraphale talk for hours about a new book that had just came out, not really listening but watching the way the light made a blonde halo around his friends head.

He remembered Aziraphale sleeping in the back seat after way too much wine and having to carry him up to bed, his sleeping face oh so angelic, his pink lips oh so kissable.

He remembered bringing home the cuttings which were now huge plants in his flat and having to scold Aziraphale for speaking too kindly to them.

A lot had happened in this car, a lot of memories.

Somewhere along the way they had stopped in traffic, and he realised the music had stopped with it. Crowley turned absentmindedly towards the angel, feeling her gaze burning white hot through was staring at him with a look of shock on her face.

"What is it?" He asked, trying to sound annoyed but sounding hollow.

"Crowley-you're! You're!"

She said in disbelief, pointing at his face frantically.

"I'm what?" He barked, getting agitated now.

"Crowley you're crying!" Vera whispered.

Crowley reached up dazedly, touching his face, indeed his fingers came away with salty tears.

He found himself taking a few seconds to digest that he Crowley- the tempter, a fallen angel, the reason why humanity were banned from Eden, a demon, was crying.

He looked up again and noticed Vera staring, fully gawking with her mouth wide open. Crowley rolled his eyes and wiped the tears away roughly with the sleeve of his coat.

" close your mouth or you'll catch flies" Crowley snapped.

"I'm sorry" said Vera sadly.

"It's just-"

"It's just what?" Said Crowley, hunching over the driving wheel.

"I've never seen a demon cry before.

Crowley gritted his teeth.

"There's a first time for everything"


	3. Damn it Vera!

**Big shout out to suunde TheLadyMango and alance07 and guest for sticking with this story, and everyone else who has followed along so far, sorry for not updating in forever I've been writing my dissertation and otherwise being a disorganised little shit, but I hope you enjoy this chapter! I had a great time writing it! All the best-Sky.**

Orlo let out a frustrated noise, leaning back on the Angel's hips, throwing his head back and gnashing his teeth. Why did the angel have to pass out now? He was having so much fun! The terrified energy he had been devouring as soon as the angel felt it was ebbing away. Nothing but Aziraphale's sweet blood tinged with bitter suffering left behind to taste.

He licked a stripe from the Angel's delicate collar bone to his shoulder, moaning low and guttural in his throat as the red liquid danced on his tongue, he resisted the urge to tongue the wound he had left, saving that for when the angel was awake to feel it.

A scowl that could curdle any dairy product cracked his face in two, and he looked down at the angel, its pretty blue eyes no longer burning with exquisite anguish but hidden beneath heavy eyelids, his body's quivering almost at a standstill.

The angel had looked so beautiful in his squirming, frantic and fearful and oh so delicious. The demon was so ready to tarnish and devour this celestial being, and it had all been ruined.

He spelled away his swelling erection. Orlo was impatient, but not so that he couldn't savour a good thing. Just as this slightly fat but exquisitely delicate angel enjoyed nice vintage wine- with his sorry excuse for a demon crowley, Orlo got off on pain. Wasting a perfectly good opportunity to make the beautiful angel writhe and burn in anguish was not something he did.

Orlo caressed the Angel's sleeping face, one long claw almost leaving a scratch down one side of it. He pushed back the Angel's curls gently, and the Angel's worry lines between his brows eased. Sleep now angel, he thought, you're going to need all the rest you can get when you wake up.

He smirked, hopping leathly off of the prone angel. Grasping a white handkerchief off of his desk and almost regally dabbling away the blood from his lips, licking away the excess with one long sandpapery tongue that was much like a cats.

The demon cast one last lingering glance at the angel draped awkwardly across his bed, feeling morose as he viewed its beauty, soft curls and fine bones...bones he could easily snap. He would like to keep this one, but Crowley would no doubt be on his way to fetch him… and Angel's never lasted long anyway.

X

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"Damn it Vera! I'm going as fast as I can!"

Crowley swerved to avoid an oncoming moped.

This was not something Crowley had ever in his long life time said before, Aziraphale if anything begging him to slow down, but Vera was becoming more and more bossy as time went on.

Ever since they had gotten within range of aziraphale to smell him. His scent of old books and summer rain tinted with earl grey tea becoming detectable… but there was something else mixed in with it, the bitter scent of dread, and pain, and what crowley dearly hoped wasn't blood.

Crowley's heart wept at every new emotion he could smell. His fists tightened on the steering wheel, hard leather rough beneath his palms,his foot inched further on the accelerator.

They didn't have much time before Orlo fed, not only on Aziraphale's corporeal form but on his fear, and his pain, and lastly his soul. There would be nothing left but a memory of him, and that was a reality Crowley would not accept.

Crowley eyed Vera sideways, her angular form folded on the edge of her seat, gripping the bottom of it to contain her pent up energy. She looked vengeful, rage contorting her pretty features.

It looked strange on an angel, but Crowley understood had felt rage like that before his fall. And he had seen Angel's who were ritchoussly angry before. Angel's could feel anger such as this too...

As it was Crowley could hardly feel any anger at all. Just bone chilling fear for his dear angel. He was stricken with the knowledge that in a few short hours there could be no more Aziraphale.

No more dining at the Ritz, no more healthy debates on the nature of good and evil, and what God meant and why things ended up how they did, if this was the plan all along. No more introducing the angel to the latest human trends and obsessions and recording his hilarious reaction for crowley's Instagram and Twitter followers.

No more cuddling on crowley's luxurious bed and watching the angel devour book after book, page after page, soft curls twisting at the nape of his neck blotting his vision, as the angel lay propped up in Crowley's lap and Crowley napped, sapping the Angel's warmth and hearing every gasp and appreciative noise as zira discovered a new plot line appearing in the novel.

Crowley eyed vera, brow creasing.

"You do know how to fight don't you?" He asked.

Vera produced some iron knuckles from one of her white trench coat pockets, and a taser from the other, smiling a toothy grin. Crowley's eyebrows shot up and he took a sharp intake of breath, somehow he didn't doubt this wiry angel knew how to use them.

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Vera lurched out of the Bentley as soon as it swerved to a stop, sending up a spray of rainwater and almost colliding with a lamp post.

"Vera!"

Barked crowley.

Jumping out after her. The demon grabbed hold of her coat sleeve desperately, she stopped in her tracks, standing motionless in the pouring rain, and eyed him with dark vengeful eyes.

"What the hell are you doing Vera?He'll destroy you!-we need a plan!"

Vera huffed, tugging the coat sleeve of her trench coat out of crowleys hand roughly.

" you don't understand Crowley! This is what I was MADE to do!"

Crowley was beyond confused, most Angel's of God were not sent on suicide missions alone, he didn't understand at all.

"What do you mean? Made to do! Made to go on a suicide mission? You're an angel! He will devour you...We need to figure out what we're doing before we go in"

Crowley was a little worried for Vera, yes he wanted Aziraphale back more than anything, but they couldn't just rush in all guns blazing. No matter how much he wanted to.

"Crowley"

Said Vera, so quietly he could barely hear her voice above the rain. Traffick making a humming noise in the background, the occasional sound of tyres on gravel.

"I think it's about time I tell you me real name"

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Crowley took a sharp intake of breath. Vera held out her hand and tilted her head to indicate he should grasp it. But before he did he spoke "this better not be a waste of time Vera"

Crowley looked up at her through sodden locks.

" I get the feeling it won't be, but if it is I swear on her I'll let orlo take you back to hell with him"

Crowley looked vulnerable to vera in the dim street light, his thin frame swaying with fatigue, his eyes too bright.

"without him I have nothing, I can't live in a world without him in it- I can't!"

"It's all going to be ok Crowley" said the angel.

"Take my hand"

Crowley grasped the Angel's hand roughly, and everything ignited with white.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Crowley felt strange… he was in what appeared to be heaven, but not in one of the lower offices, in the executive levels.

Everything was white and he was carrying a tea tray. He found himself getting into an elevator and going up… all the way up, or at least further than he had ever seen before he fell.

He glanced forward, catching a glimpse of Vera's dark hair and eyes in the mirror infront, she scowled back at herself.

"Just one more week and I get to go back down and work in admin" Vera said to herself absentmindedly.

It was like he was seeing through her eyes but unable to influence her actions. A flashback then.

The elevator pinged open and her eyes squinted half shut as they adjusted.

Vera walked forward, into a sparsely decorated apartment. Gabriel and God's conduit were sat opposite in two comfortable looking leather armchairs. Gabriel the smarmy bastard was leaning back with one leg draped over the other and his arms resting comfortably on the arms. The other angel was sat up strait nursing a cup of tea.

"Set it down over there J" drawled Gabriel.

Crowley could feel the hatred bubbling away inside Vera.

She hated the pet name. But what did the J stand for? Wondered Crowley.

Vera set the tray down and grabbed some cleaning supplies from the open plan kitchen behind the pair, pretending to clean.

The angel could vaguely hear the conversation.

" but you must find someone Gabriel! He may have disobeyed orders but we cannot have hell taking all the credit for getting rid of him, and what a ghastly way to go! it's not becoming of an angel!"

Well this was interesting thought Crowley, evidently Vera had thought so too, she stopped cleaning and just listened, back against the cabinet, pretending to have left.

" I'm sorry no angel is willing to help him, he's fraternized with demons for hells sake! He's been corrupted!" Bullshit, thought crowley, he could smell a lie a mile away and that was a bald faced lie.

"Not enough for her to let him fall though Gabriel!" Corrected the conduit, Gabriel scowled.

Crowley found Vera's body moving. Walking over and standing close to the pair.

"Can I help you? J?"

Asked Gabriel in a bored sounding voice, both Angel's craning their necks to glance up at her, irked at her sudden appearance.

"No! Gabriel! But I sure as hell can help you!"

Vera hissed.

"JOPHIEL!" Shouted the Conduit.

Gabriel scowled.

"I agreed to let you come up here if you behaved! but I shall not hesitate to demote you once more if this behaviour continues! You are not an archangel anymore!"

Crowley jolted, and his whole being sank into the floor, Vera… was an arch angel? And she had been cast out? It felt so wrong, She was Jophiel… and Crowley had something to do with her being demoted. Thiis was a revelation. He felt sick.

"I sure am!" Screamed Vera, stomping her foot "You just ignore my purpose and force me to be your servant! You should have listened to me when I told you they were right! Crowley and Aziraphale have sone nothing wrong! And I demand you let me do my DAMN job and help them!"

Crowley blanched.

The conduits eyes were bright and he looked utterly white with rage.

"I will not be spoken to in this manner!" Said the fat angel.

"Gabriel get rid of her! I don't care how just do it!"

Gabriel stood up, too to toe with the livid arch angel, grabbing her white shirt and lifting her so she was but an inch from his face.

Vera just glared.

"So you're still the arch angel of vengeance jophiel? Go avenge then" he said, shoving her so her body stumbled backwards. She just glared right into his cold eyes.

Gabriel shouted "Nobody wants any of your wisdom so get out of our hair and get down there right now! And don't even ASK about coming back!"

Gabriel made a shooing motion.

"Where are my weapons Gabriel?" Jophiel bit out through her teeth.

Gabriel snapped his fingers and some iron knuckles and a taser appeared in her hands.

"Real classy Gabriel!" Hissed Jophiel, turning on her heel and taking the elevator down.

X

X

X

X

X

Crowley came to like a man who had just been underwater, taking a huge gulp of air and straightening up where Jophiel was holding him up in his tranced state.

"YOU are the angel of wisdom understanding and judgement!" Said crowley in a very high pitched voice "Damn it Vera! - I mean Jophiel! You should be back up there- ya know, dealing with things! You're a bloody archangel for satan's sake! Why stay here when you can be- you can be up there?" He finished, dumbfounded.

"Because" the archangel replied, looking thoroughly done with the conversation.

"All the other Angel's wanted to hear was -ooh, let's go to war with hell! Let's destroy earth!" Jophiel rolled her eyes.

"And don't EVEN get me started on what they thought about you two! Fucking bigots! You saw! Had me serving coffee to bloody Gabriel of all Angel's, demoted for doing what I was MADE to do!"

"Look I need a time out" said crowley, looking dazed, a hand on his brow, sweeping back the wet hair frantically. "I cannot believe you came down to earth to help us" Crowley looked down, scrubbing a hand down his face, he then caught Jophiels eyes.

" but If anyone can take out orlo it's the blessed arch angel Jophiel" crowley finished.

"You said it" smirked Jophiel. Iron knuckles grasped tightly and a glint in her dark eyes. She looked fiercely beautiful in that moment, and the light around her grew so bright Crowley had to work hard not to shrink away from it.

The demon looked up from where they were standing, sniffing once. The only apartment with lights on the one on the corner across the street. Lights flickering gently with what crowley dearly hoped wasn't hellfire.

The demon mewled at the sweet smell of angel blood and fear- and books, and earl grey tea and an aura that was purely Aziraphale. That apartment was where Zira was. They were so close!

The pair shared a look, Crowley fishing a fresh pair of sunglasses out of his jacket pocket and putting them on, straightening up, his mouth was hard. Jophiel nodded, and they strode lightly into the night.


End file.
